


Fault

by Lanford



Series: Fault to Guilt [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Canonical Character Death, Caring, Diary/Journal, F/M, Falling In Love, Fear, Feeding, Feels, Forced Kissing, Frustration, Guilt-trip, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Conflict, Invasion of Privacy, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Submission, Omitting the truth, Points of View, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Role Reversal, Secrets, Self Confidence Issues, Shirtless, Sorry Not Sorry, Stockholm Syndrome, Stress Relief, Suicidal Thoughts, Teasing, Time Travel, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8754862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanford/pseuds/Lanford
Summary: Whose fault was it that Max ended trapped in the Dark Room? Upon some alone time, Max tries to understand what happened, why it had happened like that, and how to better escape from it.





	1. Chapter 1

"And the winner is..... Max Caulfield!"

That's what she really wanted to listen when she was at the _End of the World_ party. That's what she stayed there for.

If she wanted to listen to these these words so much, then why she haven't even entered the contest?

She knew she didn't have a chance at all, yet she stayed there, just to feel disappointed a few seconds later, until her friend pulled her out of the party.

Chloe, her _friend_ , pulled her all the way into complete darkness.

\-------

When Max slowly came back to her senses, she was inside a place she had seen before. It was very silent. The light was dim and it didn't hurt her eyes when she opened them. She looked all around herself, still feeling a little lagged.

She was confused for a little. " _Why am I bound to a chair?_ "

A very little time. " _Why am I here?_ "

All it took her was to follow a thin line of thinking. " _What happened before? I can't rem--_ "

As she took a sudden, hard breath, she finally realized it. " _The junkyard! Mr. Jefferson!_ "

She kept following the line. " _He shot Chloe... he looked so... upset._ "

She thought harder about it. " _Why he didn't shoot me too? Why he brought me here instead?_ "

But she soon snapped out of it. " _Those photos at the table... is that me?_ "

Her awareness was much better now, and she managed to force her right leg out of the duct tape, using her foot to pull the table closer to her. " _...Why did Mr. Jefferson took such photos of me?_ "

She focused her eyes into the photograph. She wanted answers to the turmoil inhabiting her mind.

\-------

Darkness again.

Max couldn't feel anything at all. For a moment she wondered if the photo-rewind had gone wrong.

Until she felt warm touches at her limbs, one limb at a time, and a small part of her limb at a time. She had her body being moved, but she couldn't tell how much since it was a very soft touch and she couldn't see anything.

It was like she was almost totally out of her senses.

She could still feel an occasional warmness though. At her shoulder, at her ankle, at her wrist...

She could hear something as well. A soft, repetitive noise. Also what seems to be a voice, but she couldn't make anything out of it. All she could do was to listen to these noises.

Soon, she could listen better to it. "...Oh, Max..."

She could definitely listen to it. "...If only..."

It still sounded a little far, but it repeated itself. "...If only you had entered the contest..."

A small pause. "...But you didn't..."

A warm, careful touch at her neck, she listened to it a little closer. "...We could have been flying to San Francisco now... "

The warmness in her neck is no longer felt. "...But instead, we are here..."

Another pause. "...And I'll need to kill you..."

Something warm again, she could feel it dropping from her eyes. "...Soon enough..."

Was it tears?

Her powers had a time limit to manifest itself. Although she had such magnificent powers, she was still a frail human. It wasn't long until she was brought back to the present.

\-------

Max woke up at the same dim-lit room, bound by duct tape to the same dark-colored chair. There was now a small, crooked tissue at the same table her same photo was, but she was even more troubled inside her mind now than she were before she traveled to the past.

She blinked twice as she looked down. " _...I... just can't believe this..._ "

Her much admired teacher took photos of her. " _Mr. Jefferson is going to kill me..._ "

Such beautiful shots he takes, he **always** takes them, yet she couldn't manage to take a single shot on his request. " _...Because I didn't deliver my entry?_ "

She closed her eyes forcefully. She grasped the chair handles as hard as she could. She took long breaths... Max felt like she was a monster, she was irresponsible, she did not met others' expectations placed on her, all she ever brought was disappointment.

As the tears began building up, she heard a beep and then a loud, low-pitched noise echoed through the room. The door was being opened, as if Max already couldn't contain her sadness enough, now this.

"Are you awake yet? Are you still there?" His voice echoed, without response, along with soft noises of steps, fabric, plastic and ripped-off paper.

He was there. It's her end now. She could only live a small moment, while he was preparing himself, before having her life ended by the hands of her most admired person she ever came to talk face to face.

Max was unable to hold the tears any longer. She buried her face down as much as she could, as if her quiet sobbing didn't give away her weakness.

As he entered into the larger portion of the room, he noticed she was moving, and talked to her with little disdain. "Oh, I see you woke up. Are you ready to--"

A louder noise was heard as the brand new syringe dropped to the floor. He ran to her, kneeled on the ground and raised her head with his both hands. She heard the plastic crinkles of his gloves very close to her ears. She still had her eyes shut as she began to cry desperately.

"I AM SORRY, MR. JEFFERSON!"

Tears flowed down her face without stop as he stuttered. "W-what? Why are you crying?"

"I AM SORRY! I am so sorry... I'm horrible, you must hate me... so much now..." She opened her eyes, sobbing uncontrollably, and through the blur of her tears, she could see his framed eyes looking worriedly at her.

"Max, look... I need you to tell me, why are you crying?" His voice was cast in a deeply serious tone. He sounded genuinely concerned about her.

"You... you're going to kill me... because I didn't enter the contest... because I disappointed you!" And she cried louder once again.

His eyes opened wide at her answer.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he saw her the first time, about a month ago at their first class together, he knew she was different from all the others.

She was bathed in golden afternoon sunlight. Her blue eyes were curiously devouring her surroundings, admiring his works spread around the classroom. Her brown hair moved even at her slight sigh while timidly looking at her journal.

It was a hard task to stay collected at the classes. Almost unbearable in the rare times where she would ask to review a topic.

Her voice was sincere. Her smile was pure. Her gaze was innocent.

Maxine was his muse.

Yet, he made her cry.

\-------

It was raining an awful lot. The wind brought all those raindrops so strongly against his car, it made harsh and discordant sounds. The curtain of rain was this thick, Mark had to drive in a slow pace because there was almost no visible road ahead of him.

It was taking way too long to get back there. When he received the call, it was such a clear morning outside the barn, where did this much rain come from?

This Friday was a free day to him, Mark didn't had any class scheduled, so he thought he could spend the whole day with his lenses clicking relentlessly at her.

It felt very frustrating. Not being able to accomplish his private agenda.

He was summoned by the one person he cannot ignore, one of the few who had the number to his disposable phone. But of course, every time he would go to his secluded room, he would carefully turn off his every electronic emitting wireless signals. He couldn't afford being tracked.

He had to listen to bullshit the whole morning.

Then he went to get a generous meal somewhere else. All the listening got him starving. He hadn't eaten anything since before the party last night.

While he was taking so many detours already, he then drove to his apartment, where he took his sweet time in a shower, afterwards picking some other equipment, then finally getting a raincoat in spite of the bad weather outside.

Last night, while he was burying her _friend_ , he pondered a lot about her, letting her live or not... but now he had already decided.

It was going to be a long weekend.

\-------

Notwithstanding the heavy rain, he was in such high spirits this late afternoon. He felt like nothing else could go wrong.

It was only when he heard her quiet sobs at the other end of the room, only then he realized it might be too late already. " _Fuck, Mark! You scared her! It wasn't supposed to be like this, now she broke and it's your fault!_ "

With trembling hands, he dropped the syringe. " _I shouldn't have rushed her into this place._ "

There was a loud noise of hard plastic hitting the ground consecutive times until it finally rested. " _But... it wasn't actually your fault, right?_ "

He ran to her. " _If only she hadn't strayed away from the art path..._ "

He knelt before her. " _It was her_ friend _who dragged her into troubles she should never have been involved with, don't you think so?_ "

He stared quietly at her, still trying to figure things out. " _That's why I brought her here... She will never have to worry about someone else again. She will never be risking her life being out into the severe storm. She will be safe here._ "

He reached for her as gently as he could, even if he was way too worried about her. " _She **should** have been safe here... but she is scared of you, Mark. Now you need to try fixing her before it's too late._ "

As he lifted her head, he could clearly see all the tears pouring down her face. She cried in a loud voice which echoed through the whole room.

"I AM SORRY, MR. JEFFERSON!" He didn't understand why she was the one asking for apology.

He had to conceal his nervousness from her. "W-what? Why are you crying?"

"I AM SORRY! I am so sorry... I'm horrible, you must hate me... so much now..." As she opened her eyes, he could see the tears glowing blue as they flowed to the outside of her eyes. It was such a beautiful view, but he shouldn't afford taking pictures right now.

He had to be strong. Care for her when no one else could. "Max, look... I need you to tell me, why are you crying?"

"You... you're going to kill me... because I didn't enter the contest... because I disappointed you!" It was only as she said it, he could be deadly sure of it.

She was so broken. She was apologizing because she couldn't handle his request. She was apologizing because he insisted this much about it... He was tormenting her with it, yet she is the one apologizing now.

Although this broken, she is still this innocent to believe it's actually her own fault.

Mark was impressed at her preciousness.

For a moment, he thought of drugging her again in order to make her sleep and calm down, however, this was the perfect chance to pull her trust from the depths of her troubled mind. He already did it with Nathan in a constant basis, surely he could pull it off from such a pure young woman...?

He didn't even think twice about it.

Suddenly, Mark's hands shift from the sides of her head. He bent forward and hugged her, having one hand firmly at her back, and the other hand at the back of her head, holding her face against his shoulder.

His shirt got stained from her tears.


	3. Chapter 3

The dim-lit room was cold. There were no windows, no Sun, only a quite silent, constant white noise indicating there was a ventilation system in works there.

Given she was asleep a few moments earlier, her body was still cold from the lower blood circulation while in a resting state, even if she became very nervous upon waking up.

His embrace took her by surprise. Such warmness could be felt from his build.

When she rested on his broad shoulder, even though her nose was runny, she could still feel a faint scent of cologne. It was a pleasant scent.

His sudden move, his heat, his scent. Everything about him got Max wondering just enough to actually cease crying through the fast-paced minutes.

While she calmed down, nothing else was said or done. They could very well be frozen in time.

"...Can we talk now?" he asked quietly, almost whispering, breaking the long pause.

His beard scratched her ear and neck, making her feel shivers. "Y-yeah..."

As he loosened his grip around her, Max readjusted herself at the chair. His hands, gloved with plastic, made soft sounds while they slipped through her back, to her shoulders, upper arms, over the duct tape holding her wrists tightly into the chair arms, resting his hands cupping over hers.

" _Is this really happening?_ "

Mr. Jefferson was once again resting knelt right in front of her. Her head was an angle higher than his. Watching him from sightly above felt like Max was a princess in her throne, being asked by her trustworthy knight clad in white armor.

" _This feels so... unreal._ "

"Are you still scared?" His brown eyes, framed by his glasses, felt like he could see inside her soul.

She felt intimidated by his stare and looked to the side. "A little."

"You already knew this place since yesterday, so what are you scared of?" His tone was as tranquil as ever.

Her eyes shifted back to him and then elsewhere, as she felt her own insecurity knocking inside her mind. "...You. I mean, how do you know I was here, why you brought me here, why haven't you shot me like you did w--"

Max got interrupted with a demanding groan from her stomach.

The room was incredibly quiet, of course he listened, releasing a modest laugh under his breath.

"You're so hungry..." His smile caught her off-guard once again. "Lemme get you something to eat." Breaking the physical and eye contact with her, he rises and heads to the smaller part of the room, which was separated by a see-through curtain.

\-------

Max listened to every sound he did. " _In the end, he dodged my questions..._ "

She could not see his actions, only wonder. " _Can I trust him?_ "

There were sounds of metal, glass, water, washing, bottles and boxes being opened and closed, and his shoes' steps, but he sure did everything at his own pace. " _Is he really concerned about me?_ "

Her anxious worries made sure she did not say anything while he was away, even though they could still listen to each other. " _...Does he expect me to trust him, only because he's keeping me alive?_ "

She could listen to a heavy sigh from him before he walked in again, carrying what looks like a metallic bowl into his hand.

His shirt was gone.

\-------

Max admired him very much.

Even a long time before getting approved into Blackwell, she would carefully observe his photographs over and over again, at the internet and inside specialized magazines.

When she got to know the famous Mark Jefferson in person though, it wasn't only about his skill anymore. He was truly enchanting as a teacher, and deadly handsome as a man.

She would wait patiently through the other classes to see him again at his class. She would try her best at the assigned homework, even though the load among all classes was very demanding of her free time. She would go out the campus during the weekends, looking for nature beauty just waiting to be framed by her Polaroid film.

She would marry him in a heartbeat, if only it didn't sound so far off in her daydreams.

\-------

Of course, she wanted to have a very long and detailed look at his bare body, but everything was escalating so suddenly, her young and inexperienced instinct pulled her back, enforcing the behavior of a mannered lady.

"MR. JEFFERSON, WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!" She yelled while turning her head to the side in order to avoid staring.

"You mean half-naked?" In a still calm, rather oblivious tone, he fetched the chair by the computer, bringing it all the way to where Max was.

"Don't you dare teasing me!" As the sound of the chair's wheels rolling on the ground got near her, she closed her eyes, both in anger and embarrassment. "Why you took off your shirt?"

"I had to wash it quick." He placed his chair next to hers. "If I let your tears dry, it would get stained."

" _Oh... that's right. It was actually my fault..._ " She looked down with a frown as he seated by her side. " _Why am I being so intense? It feels like I'm tied to a roller coaster seat instead..._ "


	4. Chapter 4

With the gloved hands grasping at the sink's borders, he reviewed his plan with a grin at his face. " _I'm getting her trust no matter what it takes. One step at a time, there's over 50 hours ahead and no need to rush things with her._ "

It was the perfect plan. " _I got her all the way down to here, that was the hardest part already. She is bound and won't run away from me._ "

Nothing could go wrong anymore. " _I calmed her down, now I am going to feed her, talk to her, ease all of her pains. No drugs, no syringes, no guns._ "

He had a look down at his own bare abs. " _Her tears were a godsend, now I am as defenseless as I could get. I'll just keep being the_ Prince Charming _Maxine can look forward to._ "

He picked the bowl filled with milk, cereals and a spoon. " _She's eighteen, she just got out of her diapers, of course she likes sugar. Especially when she just cried her fears away, she's probably in need of a big dose of sugar._ "

He inhaled for a couple seconds, then exhaled in a big sigh. " _You got her, Mark. Your muse is safe now. Don't screw up, there's no room for failure._ "

\-------

He seated diagonally from her, grabbing the spoon and using it to slowly turn the cereals and the milk inside of the bowl. "Excuse the lack of actual food in the menu, this is the tastier thing I could get for you."

"...It's fine." She looked to the bowl shortly, then averted her gaze to the ground once again.

After numerous turns, he stops the spoon motion. The way the cereals danced along the milk always felt so distracting to him. " _Getting to care for her like this... It feels so--_ "

"Can you taste it?" She interrupts his thoughts.

Taken by surprise, his face looks a little startled. "...Excuse me?"

"Can you have a spoon yourself?" Max looks at him from the corners of her eyes. "I want to make sure you didn't put anything suspicious in it."

He exhales a small laugh. "Of course I didn't..." " _...You bitch._ " In a confident and fluid motion, without any sign of doubt, he picks a spoonful of milk and cereals and brings it to his mouth.

Her eyes widen a bit while he eats. The cracking sounds of the cereals could be heard from any corner of the room, even though his mouth was shut.

Having a stern look at her, Mark gulps it down at once. "...How can I answer your questions if you can't trust me? Am I this menacing? Am I armed with a weapon?" He could notice her cheeks were being colored into a reddish hue as she averts her stare from him once again. "Anyway, can I feed it to you now?"

She nods to him with no vocal response.

As Mark reaches an empty hand to her face, Max retreats herself while looking confused. "Raise your head and sit properly, I don't want you to spill it in your black tee."

She reacts at his touch as he picks her chin, cupping it inside his thumb, index and middle fingers, raising her head slowly and guiding her body into an erect pose.

He let go of her and starts feeding the cereals, always in gentle motions. "So... you asked first about this place. This room is surveilled, that's why I knew you were here."

"Why sho mush shecurity?" She asks while munching.

Pointing the spoon around, he answers. "You see, this is my studio, it's where I keep all this expensive equipment. I don't want anyone else barging inside and messing with my work material." Mark can hear her hard gulp.

"So your work involves drugs too?" She asks in a sightly ironic tone.

He silences her with more cereals. "Well, I... When I bring people here, they often feel uncomfortable with this place, so in order to make them relax and s--" He hesitates before saying the word _shoot_. "...photograph them better, I keep these drugs in here so the work can be done as quickly as possible."

"Wat kindh ov workh?" She gulps. "I noticed there are only girl names at your binders." She asks with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

He looks over his shoulder, to the other side of the room, and then back at Max. "You sure noticed those photos hung by the entrance, don't you?" He feeds another spoonful in her mouth. "I sell them online. Female subjects often sells better than male ones, so I opt for minimizing the risks of market failure and photograph only with female subjects."

She gulps and asks in a rather hurried way. "What about the girls I saw on your binders? Kate, Rachel... you take photos of your own students."

Mark notices her concern and answers to her directly, without feeding her this time. "Those kind of photos at the wall back there, where it's not possible to see their faces inside the frame -- these are the ones I sell online, so there won't be any trouble regarding the students."

"But the photos on the binders shows their faces." She adds before the spoon reached to her again.

He feeds her once. "These are the ones I am keeping for myself. It's part of my _curriculum vitae_." And feeds a second time. "And now about... ending your life, there's no way I would do that." He looks down at the bowl while waiting for a response from Max.

"But you shot Chloe." She asks, moving her body forward in a soft motion.

"Your _friend_..." He closes his eyes while in a short pause. " _This is the critical part, I have to be very careful with my words now._ " Then stares at her face. "...Max, I know you might just choose not to believe what I am about to tell you, but I really need you to trust me."

"Then tell me, tell me everything." She looks determined to find the truth.

He feeds her one last spoon, waiting for her to finish eating before replying. "Your _friend_ , Chloe... she was blackmailing my students, coercing them into her shady business and exploiting their weaknesses."

As Max was inhaling through her mouth, about to give him a reply, Mark placed his index finger over her lips. "Shh... please let me finish the whole story. You may argue as much as you want later, but now I want you to listen closely to all of this." She was startled by his sudden touch and remained silent, giving him a slight nod a couple seconds after he parted contact.

"She was dealing drugs to Blackwell students. After they became addicted, she started asking them more than money in exchange for the drugs. Then she threatened the ones which did not want to comply -- Kate did not handle it and you know how it turned out." He watched as her expression changed, she probably remembered the jump all over again.

"I'm sorry, Max, but you need to understand it was not your fault. Besides the issue with the party video and all the bullying, Kate also had to deal with Chloe as well... Nathan told me all about it. You know, the issue with the alarm ringing at the toilet this Monday? Chloe was there, threatening Nathan too."

Max looked with disbelief all over the ground and her surroundings.

"She already had two of my students, I could not allow her to make another victim... When I saw her hanging around with _you_ , I knew I had to put an end to it, or else she was going to drag you down to all this sadness and suffering..."

While listening, it looked like she was drifting far in her thoughts.

Mark reached for his muse's grim face, cupping her cheek with a single hand. It seems the plastic sounds from his glove brought her attention back to him. "Max... You are truly talented for photography. Yet this week you sounded so... off. You were skipping classes, wandering about outside the gates of the Academy, straying away from art..."

He looked through his glasses with concern, moving his eyes back and forth between her frowned blue eyes while getting closer and closer to her.

"...Away from me."


	5. Chapter 5

Death was all around her ever since she reunited with Chloe, her childhood friend.

Truth to be told, Chloe had became an entirely different person from the girl she reminisced, but the blue-haired punk still was her childhood friend after all.

They went through a lot in only a week and she thought they would never be separated once again, however, the skull in Chloe's tee was like an omen to what was about to happen in her life.

Again and again, Chloe died, and she had to use her mysterious rewind powers to keep saving her friend, but sometimes death was an unavoidable path.

Rachel was already dead on Monday. Kate died on Tuesday. Nature died on Wednesday. Frank and Pompidou died on Thursday. Chloe was already dead on Friday.

What a streak of painful memories... It made her realize that life is short -- it's obvious for anyone to acknowledge this after such events.

Yet there was more in store for her.

He had just told her a lot, and although it was quite unbelievable at first... somehow it all made sense.

It was true Chloe wanted to frame Nathan so desperately. It was true Chloe seemed to avoid talking about Kate. It was true Chloe shot a drug dealer, barged into his trailer and hoarded his contacts.

It was true Chloe was keeping Max away from her beloved photographer.

\-------

She had been watched very closely by his brown eyes. "Mis--... Mr. Jefferson..."

He kept getting slowly closer to her, she had to do something about it before it was too late.

She shook her head to the side, trying to get his hand away. "Mr. Jefferson, the bowl, it's going to--" He finally halted his movement.

"...Oh. The bowl, yeah, I shouldn't let it spill." There he was, looking oblivious once again as he parted his hand from her face.

He raised the bowl with a single hand, spoon held in his other hand, and drank the leftover milk directly from the bowl, as there were no more cereals in it. His profile was very alluring as he arched back, head fully raised upwards, his drinking motion could be seen in full glory as his _Adam's apple_ danced alongside his neck.

There's a small corner in her conscience where she still refused to believe this was really happening with her. Did she die and this was her own rendition of the paradise? Why was she so reluctant to indulge into his exhilarating figure?

Was Max still in doubt of Mr. Jefferson?

As he finished drinking, he looked sideways to her, and she couldn't hold back a small laughter as she saw his beard had white tips by the side of his mouth -- there was milk stuck in it. He soon got it cleaned using the back of his gloved hand.

"...I'll be back soon, you don't even think about leaving here." He said as he got up, carefully bringing his chair to the other side of the room.

She observes his large shoulders as he walks away. "The way you say, it looks like I could." She smiled from the corner of her mouth, enjoying being ironic while carrying his joke along.

"I saw what you did -- your right leg is loose and I'll bind it back." He leaves his chair at the computer desk, then becomes out of her view as soon as he crosses the curtain which separated both sections of the room.

\-------

She listens to the sounds of water and washing. " _After all he told me..._ "

Now the ripping of paper, and right after, the sound of such paper being scrubbed. " _I thought I knew Chloe, but turns out she really could be hiding it all from me._ "

The sound of metal clashing, then plastic being stretched and released. " _Then again, judging by this room, I knew nothing about Mr. Jefferson too._ "

Silence. " _What is he keeping me here for?_ "

Then more sounds of ripping paper and plastic stretching. " _He already took photos of me, why does he still want me to stay?_ "

She can hear him... humming a song? " _He's being so caring and gentle..._ "

In this moment, his steps sounded irregular, as if he was... dancing? " _Was he... reaching for a kiss? His eyes, the way he looked at me was so--_ "

Mr. Jefferson enters the larger part of the silent room once again. Still with his upper half naked, he walks in a seamless pace and isn't humming anything. The sudden change of pace has Max wondering if she really listened to him or was it an hallucination?

As he gets closer, she notices he's carrying a duct tape roll. "Mr. Jefferson... why are you keeping me here?" She asks while forming a slight frown.

"It's the weather, have you seen how crazy it looked through this week?" He pushes away the table near her right side carefully, turning to her right after, looking down on her. "There were double moons last night, and now there's this huge storm picking up outside."

As he kneels down and touches her right leg in order to position it properly to the chair's leg, she shivers. "But, umm, do you really need me to stay like this? I mean, can't we just chill in that large couch?" She looks to the white couch in the middle of the room, pointing to it with her fingers, and then looks back to him.

"You see, Max... it's easy to tell you still can't trust me when you react like this." Looking down on her feet, he pulls and rips a large piece of duct tape, attaching her leg back to the chair.

She protests as he pulls more duct tape, placing more pieces even over the ones she already had been bound with. "But, Mr. Jefferson, I wanna stretch my body, my back is hurting!"

"I need you to stay." He replies, without making eye contact with her, as he raised and walked away. "I just want to keep you away from trouble. You're safe here."

He contours the low table and sits at the middle of the couch, picking her bag which was resting along other stuff in the low table now located before him. "...Mr. Jefferson, why are you looking into my bag?" She asks as soon as he begins doing so.

"After all I've told you about me..." He finds her camera and places it at the table. "...Now it's time for me to know more about you as well." Then he finds her journal, now placing the bag with the rest of it's contents on the ground, laid by the table's side.

"Wha--" " _Oh no, he's going to see my diary._ " Max instantly gets nervous as she can see him clearly opening her journal from the back and passing through the pages quickly, until he reaches the beginning, where he stops and looks at it with a glint of interest in his framed eyes. "STOP! DON'T LOOK AT IT!"

He looks up straight at her, still with her open journal in his gloved hands.

She looked very desperate. "...Please, Mr. Jefferson, I beg you, I'll tell you anything you want to know about me, but **please** don't read that."

"Too bad for you, I really hate when people beg me. I'm reading this **out loud** now." He said to her without changing the stern expression on his face, looking down on her journal once again.

For the first time in her life, her rewind powers were of no use at all. There was no way to convince him otherwise.


	6. Chapter 6

He was used to see people shedding tears next to him.

In fact, Nathan often shed tears _into_ him, staining his clothes with salty drops, much like Maxine did. He knew tears would've left stains into fabrics if they dried without being cleaned.

Stains were against his much prized aesthetics. Of course he shouldn't let people see him with dirtied pieces of cloth.

Keeping appearances was a hard task.

In order to be able to capture perfect photographs, he had to suppress his emotions. In order to be able to capture perfect subjects, he had to suppress his true self.

He was used telling lies to people next to him.

Sometimes it was very stressful to hide under deceiving words. Sometimes covering his emotions was painful to him. Sometimes he felt like he could not feel anything at all.

His strain had to be released somehow.

In his darkroom, Mark was allowed to be true to himself.

\-------

He washed the bowl and spoon in which he served cereals to his muse, picked a few paper towels to dry them, and put them away. " _This was perfect._ "

He disposed of his plastic gloves, which got dirty with milk just before, in order to make sure his hands would be clean. " _Dead students tell no tales._ "

Using his bare hands, he touched the shoulder area of his white shirt, which was hanged beside an air vent in the wall. It still felt moist. " _This time, I bent her carefully._ "

He then picked a new pair of plastic gloves, ripping away it's paper wrap and wearing the clean gloves right after. " _Now I need to bend her harder._ "

He was in such high spirits. Gone were his worries after he told her all about his own rendition of the recent events which surrounded her. She looked so sad in one moment, and then afterwards she laughed, it was an excellent sign that she was trusting him enough to wind off her worries immediately and pay her full attention to him.

Mark was enjoying the power to hurt and comfort his precious Maxine consecutively.

Unconsciously, as he was lost in thought, he hummed a song from his favorite singer. His ears were craving to hear a pleasant melody from all the silence in there. His eyes were barely open as tight as they could be, imagining his muse, he posed as if he was conducting her to a song, waltzing alone inside the smaller section of the dim-lit room.

" _Stop with this crap, Mark, get your shit together and go back to her, before she breaks her other limbs free._ "

He stops abruptly, picks the small roll of duct tape, and diligently follows his way back to his muse.

\-------

Her purity was now at hand. All the contents of her journal were at the mercy of his hungry eyes. "You sure write a lot... let's see how wrongly you think of me when I'm not around..." He passed his index finger through the lines, looking for anything of interest among all the teenage bullshit.

"...Please, Mr. Jefferson, I'll do anything, can you stop looking at my journal?" She asks in a cringeworthy face, but he doesn't give any damn about her pledging.

Her written glories were filled with hope as she found out she was attending to Blackwell. He can't hold a brief laugh as he finds it. "... **To study photography under Mark Jefferson** , PFFT! Geez, this is so worth it, **INSERT HEARTS AND FLOWERS!** " He glances at her over his glasses, sporting that trademark smug smile of his. "Is that what you see when you think about me?"

She casts her head down, staring awkwardly at the floor. Her cheeks were as red as they could be without the use of makeup.

"What else, let's see..." As he flips pages, coming back to this miserable entertainment of his. "Here: **Everything is a picture waiting to be taken. Speaking of, at least one great thing did happen today** \--heh, **Mr. Jefferson's photography class. SIGH!** " He looks to her again. "Did you wait this hard for my classes? Since you often looked distraught, and you even slept at your desk earlier this week, I wasn't... expecting this..." his smile shifts to a serious face as he expects her to answer.

Max still looks as if she wanted to bury her head into the ground out of sheer embarrassment, listening quietly to him. Mark looks back to her journal after realizing she probably got tired of protesting and sulks at her inability to stop him.

"Oh, here's more... **Mr. Jefferson assigned us a ton of reading, but this is exactly what I want to study. Jefferson is supercool and superchill.** How cute, I'm flattered... Hmm, **he doesn't try to be too hip, just says what he thinks and expects us to as well. I think he's a genius** \--"

He halts as his trolling now shatters into a surprised face, continuing to read it, slowly and not as loud as before.

" **Oh My God, I want to marry him**..."

" _Your muse wants to marry you? ...Are you fucking kidding?! You just did all of these seductive stances to find out she was already in love with you from the start? FUCK that's why she did not want you to read this... She avoided talking with you, not because she hated your pressure, but actually because she crushed on you enough to feel awkward in front of you..._ "

"It was not supposed to happen like this..." She says in a quiet voice, bringing him back from his internal arguing. Her sad tone makes he realize the damage he just did to her was much bigger than he thought beforehand.

Maxine's journal falls to the ground as Mark goes back to her as quickly as he can. "I'M SORRY!" He bows as soon as he gets to her, first placing his hands over her bounded arms, then pulling her head upwards using his both hands, once again so he can see her face and look into her sky-blue eyes. "Max, I... I'm sorry... I--" He stutters a lot, not able to find any words suited better to beg for his muse's pardon.

"...Fuck you!" She says in a trembling voice as her angry eyes become filled with tears once more.

Although he was unable to tell his muse how special she was to him, he now knew her true feelings towards him. It was enough to break through his carefully planned weekend of trying to get to her heart.

" _I won't allow you to cry again._ "

His reaction definitely was not part of his immediate plans.

Mark Jefferson kissed Maxine Caulfield in the Dark Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Merry Christmas to you, dear reader~**   
>  **Keep tuned as the roller coaster ridden on broken feels is not over yet!**
> 
> I just would like to thank you for placing your kudos in this.  
> Thank you for placing your bookmark in this.  
> Also much thanks to you who only comes to read -- even your views means a lot to me.  
> A very special thanks to my beta readers who kept encouraging me to continue writing this crazy idea of mine.
> 
> **I want to share my Christmas gift with you!**  
>  Here's some fic-inspired art from a very talented CG artist known as [Mike](http://rookie425.deviantart.com):


	7. Chapter 7

It was a forceful kiss.

Of course she wanted him to kiss her, the idea always felt so thrilling, but not like this whole situation.

She daydreamed of her first kiss to be a furtive action within the boundaries of the Academy, instead, this place was very far from anything she could have ever imagined.

At first, she kept staring at him, shocked and without a single reaction, his face as close to hers as it could be, the beauty of his eyelashes being especially noticeable from his closed eyes.

As his lips sucked on hers with gradual intensity, the tension on her body melted away faster than any drug could've relaxed her.

The sensation of his beard rubbing against her skin was unlike anything she ever felt before.

It was a rough kiss.

She was unable to think about anything else as she didn't even try to resist when he passed through the barrier of her lips.

The tears rolls down her face as she closes her eyes, finally giving in to her biggest temptation.

Was she crying before? What was she supposed to do? Where was she?

Her mind blanked out as she was completely defenseless against his sudden action.

It was a kiss which somehow defied the laws of time, much like her unique powers.

...It had a faint taste of milk.

\-------

A sudden loud noise pulls them apart in a surprise, bringing reasoning back to both of them. Everything inside the room trembled as the dim lights flickered. The anomaly only lasted for a short moment, but she feared she might not be as secure there as she once thought.

"...Told you it was crazy outside." He says as he stands, breaking eye contact with her when he tilts his head to the roof. "I wonder if we'll get struck by a tornado..."

Even if she was looking above to him, his figure looking so dreamy as his bare upper half was outlined by the shadow cast by the lights in the room, she still couldn't feel safe. Her face carrying a worried complexity.

"Hold it, stay still." He said when he looked back to her, then went to pick something by the side of the room.

Max was having those kind of _butterflies_ in her stomach. She had too many intense feelings happening to her. " _Just what is he--_ "

"Perfect." He said right after shooting her with his high-end camera. "Just perfect... Your eyes, that look of helplessness..."

The camera shutter, sounding off nonstop every couple seconds around her, was somehow irritating. "What are you doing at a time like this?"

"Sorry, I couldn't hold it any longer, I just had to capture you. Your... reaction." He fiddles with the camera in his hands, looking to it with a happy gaze. "...You're so beautiful... I'm going to print this twice, one copy for you to keep."

As Mr. Jefferson headed to the computer at the other end of the room, Max was still feeling confused. "Wait, what? You giving it to me? That means you'll let me go out of here?"

"Of course I will." He had set the printer and went to the other section of the room, out of her view, coming back shortly after, while wearing his white shirt back. "Once it's safe out there, I'll drive you back to Blackwell."

The view of his profile while buttoning his shirt up, watching the printer with hype as it gives birth to the photographs... it gave her some strange ideas -- once he was done, Max raised her right hand a little and rewound, carefully slow, she was now having the view of Mr. Jefferson _unbuttoning_ his shirt instead. " _How can he look this hot without even trying to?_ " Such eye-candy brought to her a soft laughter as she unpaused and let him get dressed.

"What are you eyeing me for?" He noticed her laughing and staring at him with a rather intense look. "Did you expect me to keep stripping for you?" He asks, flashing his smug grin to her while folding up his sleeves.

She looked to the side at his question, still smiling, but in an awkward way now. "Umm, Mr. Jefferson, there's something else you need to know about me."

"Lemme guess. You get off on the teacher-student thing?" He casually picks the glossy photographic paper at the printer and places it at his work desk so he could cut out each of them.

She widens her eyes at his guess -- she meant to tell him something else, but his assumption wasn't wrong at all. "Actually... if you just kept reading my journal, you would find it without me having to explain it... I have the feeling you won't trust me when I say it."

"Now you got me interested..." He had just finished tidying up the lower end of his shirt inside his pants, still not started on the photo cuts, so he went closer to her again, looking at her while standing up, arms folded. "What is it?"

She stares at him as serious as she could possibly be. ".....I can rewind time, predict the close future and try changing outcomes."

"PFFT~HAHAH!! Max, come on..." He completely lost his composure in the loud laugh, trying hard to keep talking without giggling in-between his words. "...You're not a child anymore, you're playing with the adults now."

She's also unable to keep her composure, but she gets angry at him instead. "IT'S TRUE! I said you wouldn't trust me!" She pouts a little as she wonders how she can get him to trust her. "Look, you got a music player there, right? Go play a song, any song, you may even shuffle it, I'll tell you how the song is before you play it."

"Hmm... Seems fair enough." He managed to stop laughing when he noticed how serious she was, bearing a contemplative look while he headed to his player. "What if you guess it wrong?"

She faces him with a devilish grin. "There's no way I'll get it wrong, but... I'll do anything you want."

For a moment, his eyes could not be seen as his glasses reflected the light coming from the spot at the side he was at. She could only see the side of his lips curling up.

So as he turned it on and reached for the Play button-- " **Alone with a heart, a battered little heart.** " Max said quickly, not like the song but actually in a single tone. Of course she had listened to the beginning of the song and rewound to say it before he touched the button.

Mr. Jefferson reacted, immediately impressed as he checked the current song name which was displaying in the sound system.

He touched the button to the next song twice. " **Now I'm a little bit crazy, out of my mind.** " She says out, once again, as quickly as she could.

"What sorcery is that?" He looked at her with a frown, then back to the player.

He pushed the button to the previous song once. " **It's been the longest week I've known, I guess I**... **miss you everyday**..." Max looked down to the floor as she paused. "You have such a great taste in your songs, Mr. Jefferson... You were humming to that song a while back." She felt the song was very romantic, although the lyrics were sad.

".....Unbelievable." He walked to her, slowly, with his arms hanging down and his head sightly tilted to the side.

She looks up to him, meeting with his kind of blank expression -- it was clear he had acknowledged defeat to her rewind powers. "Do you trust me now?"

He nods in silence. It's impossible to tell what may be passing through his mind as his stare hasn't changed a single bit since her question.

Stuttering due to his almost menacing look of nothingness, she proceeds: "So, umm... Can you release me now?"

"You still want to get away from here this much?" Now he displayed some reaction, looking a little angry to her, folding his arms. "I won't release you."

She fixes him a determined look. "Mr. Jefferson, listen... you need to release me and we need to get away right now." She pauses for a few seconds, and before he could say anything else, she resumes:

"...You're going to be killed during the next few minutes."


	8. Chapter 8

"David Madsen, Blackwell's security guard. He probably found the clues I have put together yesterday, they were all inside Chloe's room and pointed to the barn upstairs." She tries to explain to him as calmly as possible.

"And how does he get to kill me?" He asks, just as straightforward.

"He has a gun. You went for the tripod over there but he managed to shoot you before getting hit." She gesticulated with her bound hands while telling him what would happen.

"I see... what if I try shooting him as well?" He goes back to the lockers and picks a gun there.

"That might work..." She wonders about the possible outcomes.

Both of them hears the loud noise from the tall metal door opening. David enters once again. Mr. Jefferson had little time to prepare. He got shot as soon as David spotted him. The soldier shoot twice on the reaction of realizing his enemy had a gun, it was a scenario to _kill or be killed_ , and the soldier nailed both shots. There was blood spurt all over the sound player, and the ground where his body lied was soon in a big pool of crimson red. Mr. Jefferson was laying dead on the ground.

\-------

"How does he get to kill me?" He asks, just like it was the first time she heard his question.

"He has a gun. You went for your gun but he outclassed you... maybe you should try hiding behind the couch?" She points to the white couch in the center of the room, lowering her head at the mention of hiding, as if to show him exactly what to do.

David enters. The soldier saw Mr. Jefferson moving behind the couch, reflected in the glass bottle of whiskey standing in a nearby table, and shot him through the couch. He didn't even stand a chance this time. Blood poured all over the once white couch, staining it in a vivid red as his blood drips to the ground. His head stared at her with dull eyes. Mr. Jefferson is dead.

\-------

"Go pick your gun -- he has a gun too, so hide behind me and use me as a hostage to shield you from him." She looks to him with a troubled face as she was unable to forget the way he looked at her the last time he died.

David enters. The soldier pointed skillfully to Mr. Jefferson's head and shot only once. As his forehead is hit by the bullet, blood gushes at the head and shoulder of Max, who clearly heard the sound of his bone being pierced at the bullet's impact. Max tries looking back, but is unable to see his body, only the blood staining the pure-white photo-shoot background. Mr. Jefferson is dead.

\-------

David enters. The soldier shot the photographer. Blood all over the place. Mr. Jefferson is dead.

\-------

David enters. Shot. Blood. Mr. Jefferson is dead.

\-------

No matter what she tells him to do, she can't find an outcome where it's possible to save him.

She feels worse each try. She actually wondered what if they never even met, he would be alive now, as no one else would ever find about this hidden location.

She felt terribly guilty upon seeing the death of her beloved photographer over and over again.

The fault for Mark Jefferson's death was Max Caulfield's.

She had seen it many times. As many as she had already lost the count.

Until the one time where there was blood, but it wasn't his.

\-------

"Max, your nose... You're bleeding!" He worries for her, looking closely at her face as he tries cleaning her blood using his thumb.

"Mr. Jefferson... Please, release me now." She told him with a sad look in her blue eyes.

"Max, I just said I won't let you go. Don't you see you're hurt? I need to take care of you--" He suddenly gets interrupted by Max, who says in a louder tone:

"Mr. Jefferson, will you **please** let me care for you instead?! Just this once?" She looks through his framed brown eyes. All she wants is to let him live, but she can't try as many times as she wants.

Max is at her limit. Her vision gets blurry as she faints. She was unable to fight back. He is on his own now.

\-------

"~..."

It was dark.

"-ax..."

She could hear a voice.

"Max!..."

It was calling to her.

"Wake up, Max! Open your eyes!"

She tried opening her eyes. They were sore as the light hit them. She blinked a few times before realizing her current situation.

"It's okay, it's over now."

She was not bound anymore, although she still rested on the same dark-colored chair.

There was David trying to comfort her. She would get triggered at the sight of his face, if only she had the strength to move properly.

"...Where is..." She tried to say in a hoarse voice.

"Shh, calm down, Max. You should've passed through terrible things here. I'll get some water for you." David said as he lifted and went to the sink in the other part of the room.

As she was left alone, Max could look around her -- she expected to find his dead body once again as she was unable to even try saving his life this time.

Until she saw it.

She saw, behind the couch, his shoes and legs.

Mr. Jefferson's body was laid behind the couch.

"Oh no, he's dead..." She said quietly. She did not want to believe it happened yet another time.

"Again..." Max got up from the chair with some trouble balancing herself.

"If I can't stop him from dying..." She heads to the locker.

"Then I must avenge him..." She picks the gun which was still inside the locker.

When David comes back through the curtain, he runs closer to Max when he noticed she was up, however, it was only when he was too close to her, he realized she was armed.

David was carrying a bowl filled with water, using his both hands. He didn't carry his gun on his hand at the moment.

Once. Max shot David on his stomach, the soldier stared at her, incredulous at her action, dropping the metallic bowl at the ground with a noise just as loud as the gunshot.

Twice. David got shot on the right side of his chest and fell to the ground, on his back, with a moan.

Thrice. David's body is not moving anymore as he gets shot in the groin.

Max walks close to the former soldier. Real close, as she steps into the blood rolling out of him ceaselessly. She bends her legs as she places the gun directly at the middle of his big forehead.

"There you go, David... You're meeting with your stepdaughter real soon."

A final shot. David's blood leaves short stains all over Max's front -- her hands, her face, her tee, her jeans, also the sole of her sneakers were now soaked wet with the soldier's blood as well.

After a few seconds of contemplation over the dead body, Max goes where Mr. Jefferson is, leaving a trail of red footprints.

His body is laying to the ground, faced down. Max could not hold her nervousness and crumbled to the ground by his side.

"Sorry Mr. Jefferson..." She said as she fondled at the back of his head.

"I wish I could save you..." His hair felt so soft in her hand. His head was still hot.

"There's no one else left..." She parted contact with him and observed the gun still held in her other hand.

"You were the one I truly cared for..." She holds the gun with both hands, pointing it upwards under her chin.

She thought about a lot of things, but all she could see is that she was somehow involved, and death happened. She blamed it on herself every time. She thought the world would be a better place if she actually didn't exist, if she haven't messed everything so badly it resulted in the death of those who were close to her.

Max closed her eyes. She tried breathing deeply in order to calm her inner turmoil, but her hands still trembled.

She was unable to shoot again. Such a coward, she thought, as she was directly or indirectly the cause of death for many, but was unable to bring death upon herself.

Just as she lowered the gun, she could hear a faint moan. She opened her eyes wide in surprise as she placed the gun at the ground. She picked Mr. Jefferson's body and turned it to face her, resting his head over her lap -- it was him, he was breathing, he was hurt on his face and he missed his glasses, but there was no other signs of wounds or gunshots through his body.

She thought he was dead as she was unable to notice any details such as his bound hands.

His eyebrows arched down in a slight pain as he moaned again, coming to his senses. His frameless eyes opened and he soon realized whose lap he was resting at.

"Oh my, what a view..." He said to her with a slight smile. "I wish I would _almost die_ everyday, if it meant I would be greeted back by my muse like this."

"Mr. Jefferson!" She cuddled his face as it was hard to believe he finally went out of it alive. "What happened when I passed out? What you did to change the outcome?"

"I surrendered. David still punched me when he saw you bound in the chair though. I was punched to his heart's content, and next thing I know is my hands are bound and you came to my rescue." He looked to her with a tender face despite his wounds. "Is that blood in your face?"

Max suddenly remembered the fact that she killed a man, but she's not shocked at all, rather she is a little startled and can't seem to find a way to tell him about what happened. "I have the feeling you won't believe me if I told you, so it's better if you see it for yourself..."

Max helps Mr. Jefferson sitting on the ground, she unties him while he takes a long, silent look at the scene before his eyes.

"You think I had a good teacher for shooting people out of my way?" She asks to him, loaded in irony as she giggles at the end.

"I think... cleaning this mess will take a long while." He looks back to her as she managed to release his arms. "But there's some priorities first."

He grabs her both hands into his, Max starts to feel embarrassed by the way he's looking to her -- although his face was hurt, the fact his glasses were missing only made his stare even more beautiful than it already was.

"...Will you let me take some photos of your stained face like this?" He asks quietly, almost whispering to her.

"What kind of priority is that?" She laughs at his proposal.

"It was not my fault I fell in love with someone so beautiful and precious like you." He says, getting closer to her.

"Do you mean that yo--" He silences her with a kiss.

Of course she knew what he meant.

It hurt to him, kissing her with his punched face, but he felt it was needed at a strange time like that.

She returns his motions, as if accepting his confession to her.

Of course it was not her fault either -- pretty much every female in Blackwell would fall for this sexy beast in a heartbeat.

But Max was the lucky winner, prized with the key to his once lonely heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story. I feel so accomplished now that it's over =)
> 
> Please leave your thoughts on it, I need to decide compromising with more Jefferfield, even though I feel like writing more stories, it's hard to think of some alternate timeline like this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
